


Teenage Dirtbag

by venusn0va



Series: Happiness is a Butterfly [1]
Category: American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Drabbles, F/M, Inspired By American Horror Story, Kinky, Knife Play, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusn0va/pseuds/venusn0va
Summary: you and tate langdon have fun while he rages
Relationships: Tate Langdon/Reader
Series: Happiness is a Butterfly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174316
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Teenage Dirtbag

**Author's Note:**

> warnings - knife play, fear play, breeding kink, degrading kink, tate has a god complex, mean pre-death tate since he’s on coke during this period, angry sex

Loud rock music plays as Tate paces his room. I sit back on his bed, watching him throw his little fit. “I hate her. She wants me to be so fucking perfect. News flash, it’s fucking impossible,” he complains, his features coated in anger.

I just hum in response, keeping up the facade that i’m actually interested. He always complained about his mother and how she had such high expectations for him since he was “normal” compared to his other siblings.

Don’t get me wrong, i’m on his side in this situation. But that doesn’t mean i want to hear him whine and yell about it all the time. It’s gotten worse now that his mom’s new boyfriend, Larry, is trying to act like a father to him.

Tate hates that.

“Are you listening?” he asks, stopping in front of me as he looks down at me. I look into his eyes, a blank expression on my face as he studies my face. The corner of his lip twitches with anger before he reaches down and grabs me by my neck, squeezing firm at the sides.

I whimper softly, the tight grip on my neck keeping me still and at his mercy. He huffs, letting go of me, causing me to fall back onto the bed i was sitting on. “Get undressed,” he demands, stepping back from me and going over to his desk where he cuts up some pills into a fine powder and snorts it up his nose.

Coke always made him aggressive. Not in an abusive way, just in a rough and dangerous way.

I don’t follow his orders, staying unmoving on the bed as i watch his movements carefully. He turns back to face me, his eyes darkening as he sees me still dressed. He huffs, reaching over to his desk to grab a switchblade knife that had a handle decorated with skulls.

He walks to me, pushing me onto the bed so i’m laying on my back before hooking the sharp blade under my tee shirt and ripping it clean down the middle. I’d be lying if i said i wasn’t insanely turned on right now.

Tate pulls the now ruined scraps of the shirt off of me, leaving me in my bra and my skirt. I exhale shakily, the feral and ravenous look in his dark brown eyes making my core soaked. He hooks the knife under the thin part of the middle of my bra, cutting it easily and discarding it as well.

A smug, sadistic smirk spreads on his lips as he runs the flat side of the blade through the valley of my breasts and down my stomach, ending at the waistband of my skirt. I exhale softly, hoping he doesn’t catch on to my arousal.

“It’s so cute when you purposely disobey me, doll. It makes the consequences so much better,” he comments, slipping his fingers under the waistband of both my skirt and underwear before snatching them quickly off of me.

I squirm, the cold air hitting my entirely exposed skin, giving me goosebumps. My heart beats out of my chest, and i almost think for a second he can hear it. He moves the knife over where my heart is, pushing the very tip of the blade just barely into my skin.

A hopeless whimper leaves my lips as i look at him with wide eyes. “Are you scared?” he asks, his breath fanning my face. I shake my head softly. He smiles, his eyes falling down to the knife that pierces my skin just slightly.

“You should be,” he retorts. I hold my breath, not daring to move a single muscle as he runs the cold blade up my chest and over the curve of my neck to trace my jaw with the sharp edge. I move my head away from the blade instinctively, triggering something in him. 

He gets on top of me, using one hand to pin my hands together above my head. “You’re just a stupid, little girl who relies on me to make all her decisions and yet you continue, time and time again, to ignore my words and warnings,” he degrades, speaking lowly to intimidate or scare me.

And it’s working.

“Say, ‘You own me, Tate. You’re my god’,” he demands. I swallow thickly, my eyes watering just barely out of fear. “You own me, Tate. You’re my god,” i repeat back to him as honestly as i could say.

He smiles, running his hand down my stomach and squeezing my thigh before running his fingers through my wet cunt. He hums softly, a proud and cocky smile on his lips. “Of course my useless, dumb brat gets wet at the thought of being killed by me,” he tsks.

I moan softly, my eyes closed tight as he plays with my clit. I buck my hips forward, my hands balling into fists so that my nails sink into the flesh of my palms. He pulls his hands from my center, leaning back and letting go of my wrists to undress himself.

As he strips, i roll my wrists around, appreciating the freedom. I know for sure that there will be bruises there tomorrow. Tate gets back on top of me, my legs spread out on either side of him as he settles down.

He lines himself up with my entrance, not even giving me a minute before slamming into me roughly. I cry out softly, my chest heaving as his tip hits my g-spot perfectly. He starts a steady thrusting rhythm, snapping his hips back and forth roughly, each thrust punctuated with an animalistic groan from his mouth.

My moans were soft and quiet, more like heavy pants as i tried to stay quiet in fear that his mom or siblings would hear us. It was always a fear of mine. Tate, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about them.

His hands go to my neck, using both to choke me. He pushes some of his weight into the hold, wanting to leave a bruise for tomorrow when we go to school. His dick continues moving in and out of me, causing intense waves of pleasure to rush over me.

He knew how to fuck, and he knew it well.

One of the best parts of sex with Tate was his comments. “Sluts like you deserve fucking nothing,” he growls, his eyes dead on mine and his voice deep. I whimper, biting my lower lip. “That’s right. Just get more turned on by me telling you what a pathetic toy you are,”

I wrap my legs around his waist, keeping him close to me as i try my best to muffle my moans. He removes his hands from my neck, hooking his arm under my back and flipping me around so i’m face down, ass up on the bed.

His hands dig into my hips as he starts fucking me again. Even rougher than before. I let out a soft cry, my moans sounding pathetic to my own ears and i’m the one making the noise. One of his hands slides up the curve of my spine, his fingers tangling into my messy hair and pulling at it.

I mewl quietly, my walls contracting tight around his dick as he uses me like a sex doll. And i was perfectly fine with it, too. My knees go weak and i find myself relying on his grip on my waist to keep me up.

“Look at you, fucking dripping like the pathetic little thing you are,” he demeans with a snarl. I continue to let him use and abuse my body. He smacks my ass hard, making me arch my back from the heated sting the strike left in its wake. 

It doesn’t take much longer for him to make me cum. 

I moan a bit louder than i’d like, my walls tightening like crazy as my legs shake under me. His hand reaches around and grabs my throat, the loss of blood to my head only enhancing the euphoria of my orgasm even more.

He follows soon after, cumming inside of me without a care. He fucks me through my orgasm, overstimulating me as his cum drips out of me. He had a very severe breeding kink. He pulls me so that my back is flush against his chest and his chin rests on my shoulder.

Tate pushes my hair to my opposite shoulder, placing a few soft butterfly kisses to my neck and jawline. “You’ve always been my good girl, y/n,” he praises, running his hand down my side. I smile, sighing softly at the comment.

“I love you,” i say. 

“Yeah, doll. ‘Course you do,”


End file.
